She had been truthful in telling me she had another boyfriend, a rich one at that, with a Mercedes, in which she often drove his car. She even took the effort to talk about him, indicating that she had told him about me; without being offensive or obvious, she seemed to be asking for permission to continue the relationship with both of us, and to talk about both with me, or to see how I would dealing with him. For the most part, I had put him deep in the back of my mind, so far back in a little box, I didn’t want to open it up: I would have preferred have left it: ‘Out of site, out of mind.’ He was not only a lover of hers I had learned, but also a support system for her. He was older than her—she told me, I think she said thirty-five, and she wanted both of us to meet one another someday. Strange I thought at the time.

Solitude was what I wanted to give him; couldn’t believe when she asked me to meet him, what for. She said he was the one who really wanted it to come about, more than her, she protested. The man thing again I suppose. I said I’d go along with it, even though I didn’t understand the reasoning behind it—fully; it was beyond my grasp of perceptiveness, why. On the other hand, she wasn’t asking for it to take place tomorrow, or next month for that matter. Not yet anyway; so I didn’t need to nurture it for the moment. I was a little surprised he allowed it, a love-circle of sorts to be constructed, why did he not say forget that American private: --the Germans didn’t like us all that much anyway. Maybe he was as mixed up as I, or more understanding than I.

She was always with good manners, even when she brought bad news it seemed, no guilt, or at least she would not acknowledge it. And she did not want an argument out of it, nor I, I was getting what I wanted I suppose, and so was she. I think she expected me to try and put a stop to it, but when I didn’t she was going along for the ride also; to we’d see how long it would last.

I still needed to figure out how to share her without being jealous. Something I did not—really did not, need to bring up, nor did she. On the other hand, I knew I needed to adopt a new philosophy to survive in this sharing world; or this developing love-circle, except she was doing the playing around, not me. And so I chose an alternate plan, a plan B, you could say; that I could love and date beyond her: if she could have other interests beyond me, so could I.

Yet for some reason I feared telling her this, bathing the idea it would cause our relationship to disappear, and so I’d take baby steps at this, as a result, discouraging myself to talk about it, and if I ended up at a party equal to her lover’s relationship, so be it, I’ll plunge into it. Although it will not be for revenge, but rather out of boredom, and to break that bond a little, the one that ties you to the other person (the codependent bond), while they are untying your knots. Surely if I found another she’d understand. So I thought.

A New Female Friend

This morning was payday, a Friday to boot, and my three southern friends from the barracks over at the ammo-battery, where I was first assigned at Reese Kasarine, wanted to meet me outside the Soldiers Club on the compound, and so we met.

It was great meeting them again—we shook hands, lit up cigarettes, talked about what was happening in our lives. I told them about Chris, although they had heard I was dating someone, they didn’t know her name. They mentioned they had met Audrey, a young girl we all three met at a guesthouse the first month I was in Germany. Both Josh [my size, about nineteen years old from Alabama], Tim [taller than I, with ulcers, from Arkansas’], and Henry [Buck Sergeant from Tennessee] had not dated any of Audrey’s friends or Audrey herself, but they kept going to the same guesthouse she catered to and ended up getting invited to a party, a party that was going to take place this very evening, Audrey had said to Josh: “…bring Chick, and yourselves along, ” and so they were inviting me.

As we leaned against the building smoking a cigarette, I remembered Audrey slightly, I was a bit drunk when we met, and I did dance with her at the disco where we had met, she was a mulatto, very kind and not bad looking, about my age maybe a little younger, and the guesthouse came to mind again. I think she had wanted to get it on with me that night that first night we had met, she had said “Sir—” and I had said, “yaw?” and she added, “let’s go to my place…” but that was when I had curfews, and had to retreat…but maybe she still had an interest in me.

“Let’s go tonight, 7:00 PM,” said Josh with his strong southern accent, and excited vice.

I had not dated Audrey nor really cared to after that first meeting, and especially after finding Chris, but Chris was tied up with her other boyfriend this evening, and I wasn’t really shopping around looking, but why stay at the barracks and do nothing but get drunk and look at the walls.

“Sure, let’s all go, ok!!” I said with a decisive voice. I had made up my mind I was not going to stop my life for Chris, nor was she for me evidently. Next, we then went inside the club and we started to play ping pong, I figured we’d play a few games and then pool, have early dinner at the mess-hall, and then get dressed, get some booze, have a few beers and head on down to Audrey’s party.

Audrey was not as well off as Chris, rather, she lived in a big apartment complex on the shady side of the city, but she was kind and friendly, -- there was cuteness to her, and her mixture of a light-black skin, with her German accent made it quite interesting. For some odd reason, I had always felt above her in a way, or at least felt we were equal. With Chris, I almost felt as if she was in the major league, and I in the minor. Like an A movie star vs. a B movie star, something like that. I didn’t let it show, nor that it bothered me, but it was there, lingering about as if it was homeless

as we all went out for a few drinks after dinner, we didn’t arrival at Audrey’s apartment until 8:00 PM, she opened the door, and the four of us walked in. Her two girlfriends were there along with three other couples. I brought along a bottle of wine and a huge bottle of beer for the party. They were playing my song as I walked through the door, El Condor Pasa.

As I walked about the tight and un-roomy little apartment, I seen the pictures of the Apollo 13 taking off in the German newspaper laying on the coffee table with a bottle of scotch next to them, where I had now put my wine and beer, there were also four bottles of Black Daniels sitting there.

It reminded me of home my old neighborhood where we would get together, several out of about twenty-two of us, and simply booze it up either at a house, bonfire, in a basement, garage, any place would do—but this place was cozy, a down to earth apartment.

Out side you could see the lights of cars passing by the apartment building complex, and the noise of their horns seeping through the windows, the wind was also picking up, you could hear that through the windowsills …and you could see the apartment shades half opened with their lights on throughout other sections and floors of the building: people standing combing their hair, others simply talking, and still others, watching TV, and so forth and so on; this apartment complex was a WWII building, it had four apartment buildings to its completeness, that encircled a large court area, like the ancient Sumerians, with a gallery one could walk around to get to the other buildings; and an arch way you had to walk through to get to one of the four doors leading into one of the four buildings. I guess for me it was unique, not especially for the Germans, which was perhaps common.

As I glanced out the window into the courtyard, there were a few trees starting to brace themselves with the oncoming winds. A few motorcars parked along side of the road, as I looked through the archway.

“You got some beer?”

“No o p…an’t got a beer yet…”

“What yaw drinking, American beer or German?”

“Here’s a big German beer Chick, I know you’ll like it…”

“Thanks Audrey.”

“I was really hoping you’d come—

Yaw, me to…”

Audrey left me for a bit to say hello to a few other people, then she came back to me, up behind me, she put her hands on my shoulders, and for a moment turned hesitantly to her girlfriend, as if she was shy, and got the ok sign to grab me…

I knew karate quite well, and broke the hold, twisted around in a stance,

“Don’t do it!” she said, as her hand left a defensive posture. Audrey stepped back, “I wanted to give you a bear-huge,” she commented. I smiled. She then grabbed my hand, and we started drinking together.

“Come on, let’s go…” she again grabbed my hand, and brought me into her bedroom, latched the door it was a little past-Midnight.

“Put your beer on the table Chick, I want to make love…” she said--quickly, double-checking the door. Her gray eyes were captivating, as she made a 180-degree turn about and jumped on me as I fell to the bed.

“I like your muscular body, and fine smooth skin, your clear shapely chest, jawbones,” she wasn’t shy, and it felt good to have a woman tell me that. Chris made love with me fine, but never really complimented me like this. Not sure why, but it felt good.

For two hours we had sex rolling around as she put some kind of oil on me, we slid on and off each other’s bodies.

We stopped for a rest, “Who are your other friends,” I asked.

“I don’t know who they were,” she said, “Connie’s friends I suppose.”

“Should we join them?”

“That’s sounds like trouble. Let’s stay here.”

Then we both fell to sleep…

we both seemed to have woken up at the same time, it was 3:15 AM, and again we had sex for 45-minutes, and again, we both fell back to sleep. It was 6:30 AM this time when I woke up, and then Audrey woke up. I looked at her privately, considering: should we try again? Her eyes giving me another invitation for round three—yup, here we go…we both ended up making love again, rolling all over each others oily bodies.

“You are my sex machine,” she commented, as she sat on top of me, waiting for me to climax.

At this point the shyness seemed to descend for both us to a somewhere else stage, I mean there was none: her voice was evident, she liked me, as it was, I did not renew her affections to insure her I would be available for her in the near future: I left well enough alone. But as she got dressed I did demonstrate a kind of connection we had made, if not for a commitment, for a friendship, and one that might lead to the same results another day.

As I opened the door, we were the only ones in the apartment, and so Audrey made me breakfast: hardboiled eggs, toast and Jelly, coffee. That was it. But I sensed she had very little money to have even given that.

“Here,” I said, handing her a five-dollar bill.

“For some groceries,” I added, feeling I had drunk her beer after mine was gone, and now eating her food. She really didn’t want to take it, but smiled and thanked me for it.

As I started walking back to base, which was about three miles west of Audrey’s apartment I found myself whistling? I was happy, ‘I did it,’ dated another girl other than Chris. I even wanted to let her know, and gaze into her eyes, let her absorbed it; but remarked to myself ‘leave dead dogs lay. No need to do that.’ I could now see the steeple that was behind Reese Military Compound. It was a good landmark for me; in case that is, in case I got lost I needed only to keep heading towards it.

The morning had a chill to it, it was fresh I liked it. Then after about twenty-five minutes of walking, a green car was approaching.

“Oh, ohhhhhhhoo shitttt,” I said “of ...ff all coincidences. IIII,

Don’t

Believe it.” It is

Chris!!

“Where are you coming from?” asked Chris, as she stopped in the middle of the street, hanging her head out of the car window.

“I’ve been to a party, why?”

“Oh, just fine, greeeeee

ee shit-tt!” she commented, with a lump in her throat.

“What did you do at the party?”

“What do you usually do at a party Chris, get drunk?”

“No, that is not what I am asking, and

Daaa…m you know what I’m asking!”

“Ok, I met a friend a while ago, who invited me to a party. It is a girl. I am not attracted to her as I am with you, but since you are gone most of the time what do you expect. Matter-of-fact, I don’t think we need to assume anything beyond that.”

“I demand you not see her again!”

“You do what!! That seems a little unfair. You mean you can and I can’t.”

“Yes, in Germany it is ok for women to have other lovers, it is not a big thing.” She then started to cry.

“Listen,” I commented, “as unpleasant as this is, I will avoid dating other women I really do not care to date [plus it was too expensive I thought], it’s not a big thing.”

Chris smiled, she got her way, and I think she knew just how to do it; if it would have been a ‘now or nothing demand’ it would not have worked with me…girls are smart though, born with a PHDs in psychology, the day they come out of their mother’s wombs; yes, I do believe, already activated inside their female heads on how to and how not to deal with men; it is like their ‘Antivirus’ is on automatic and can come up with the exact words to win; whereas, men got flex their muscles to find a way out of their web.

“Get into the car I’ll take you back to base. We’ve acquired a smooth relationship, I believe… don’t want you to throw it away please.”

I gave her a glimpse of confirmation…nothing more.

9

The Barracks and the

Gold chain

That night I was with a few friends seeing if I could down a beer faster than Tony, who was the Buck-Sergeant with the girlfriend living in the barracks with him, or should I say harboring two girlfriends, on vacation from school, from the states, in the backroom. Their names were Shelly and Barb. Those three found their way up the block to the local pizza-guest house, where most of the GI’s went when they had no means of transportation, and didn’t want to get drunk at the local EM-Club [Enlisted Man’s Club] on base. Chris and I had been there a dozen times. John, joined us and his wife Jane, who had just come over to be with her husband while he served his last twelve-months of duty, they got military housing not far from base, actually right across the street from the pizza-bar were there were four, -- three stories buildings for military personnel, they lived in one of them.

“Where is Chris,” commented Tony, with his hand over the shoulders of Shelly.

“Gone to her rich boyfriend’s house,” so I told him, and everyone who asked. But they still kept it a secret from Chris, and never said much to me about it, plus tonight I was getting drunk, I didn’t care who knew.

“Hay, Ski,” I hollered “over here.”

“Chick, haven’t seen you for a while.”

“Yaw, where you been?”

“Keeping a low profile, the Military Police have been questioning me on that robbery at the PX three months ago.”

“Yaw, I heard about it,” I answered, but I knew Ski was the one that robbed the $3,000 dollars worth of cloths; matter-of-fact, Ski had showed me the amount of cloths he took; it was actually in his room, in a chest, he had the nerve: --I never could put my finger on it, but at times he frustrated me. Why I ask myself, why does he do these things, the only answer I could come up with was…because it was impossible for him to be God--, and that bothered him. He tried to give some of those cloths to me, unbelievable, why then did he still them if he wanted to give them away. I refused, thank god I did.

“Going to the mountains in Switzerland in a few days with one of your friends in the Security Barracks Chick,” Ski commented.

I said: “I hope you take it easy on him, no fights like we almost got into on the train to Munich,” Ski laughed.

The other guys were sitting at the table looking at Ski, they accepted him only when I was around; Ski was a trouble maker, and everyone knew it, and maybe that was Ski’s perk for staying friends with me, not sure.